Home » POETRY (page 82)

POETRY

MADEMOISELLE MARS: When someone we love, often, we cannot say why

“A lover is his backyard, the one where he hangs his heart, because he wants to win the favor of all. Having him for anybody, to hand the flame, until he is the dog house, he strives to please.” Naive and flirtatious with Moliere and Marivaux, the seductive woman also well had known and interpreted the roles offered to her ...

Read More »

JULIA HASDEU: Early in everything, even in suffering. she still lives among us, away from the deadly inertia.

She only had time to condense herself in 18 years of his life, but what they gave us – written in French, and in rhyming couplets or alternate – is her immense love for the things written. Julia had done his studies at the Sorbonne in Paris, attending the Faculty of Philosophy and Letters, but by the age of 5 ...

Read More »

GASPARA STAMPA: The water of the sea was weeping, and winds the breath of hope

“Sir, please do not tell me that, when you go away, love denied me crying because seeing me already extinguished the fire, the water had no place to temper it somewhat; indeed say that was pretty much at that point the ardor that made dry mood; and I could not show my worth with the bitter tears, so that my ...

Read More »

SUSPENDED BETWEEN HEAVEN AND EARTH: Maybe one day will benefit remember Eleanor

It was August 20, 1799, and she was 47 years old, but she was not in that square in Naples to go to market. Defonseca Eleonora Pimentel was led to the gallows for hanging, that accorded to other seven men who – like her – they believed in the concepts of liberty, equality and fraternity. That woman brave and intelligent, ...

Read More »

TIE THE STRING TO MY LIFE, MY LORD: With Emily, remembering May 15, 1886, the day of her laces

“I would be maybe longer alone Without my loneliness. I’m used to my fate. Maybe the other – peace could break the darkness and fill the room-too narrow to contain his sacrament. Hope I did not friend – like an intruder could desecrate this place of pain – with its sweet court. It might be easier to sink – in ...

Read More »

MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: The woman who had sinned twice

On 30 August 1797, a priest was deeply convinced that the death of a woman named Mary – died in childbirth – it was attributable to a divine punishment. She was born in London on a spring day, the April 27, 1759, at the age of 28 years, he had published a book, Reflections on the education of daughters, that ...

Read More »

SCRUTINIZE INSIDE: With Anais, flipping through the pages of his life

Dying of cancer in Los Angeles at the age of 73 years. Born in Neuilly-sur-Seine, to parents of Cuban origin. These are the parentheses that enclose the extraordinary life of a fascinating woman, a writer who at the age of 26 years, she living into the Paris of Antonin Artaud, DH Lawrence, Henry Miller, June Mansfield and Otto Rank. It ...

Read More »

ELISABETH & ELISABETH: The Love, in the silence of the woods, when he is with me

ELISABETH SIDDAL-ROSSETTI 1829/1862 > From 1862, for the desire of the husband, the only copy of his poems of love was in the tomb of Elisbeth, a woman who was a model and artist, wife and poet. He was an Italian named Dante Gabriel Rossetti, but seven years later – for economic reasons – he obtained permission to open the ...

Read More »

PAUL VERLAINE – À MADAME X: EN LUI ENVOYANT UNE PENSÉE

À MADAME X:  EN LUI ENVOYANT UNE PENSÉE Au temps où vous m’aimiez (bien sûr ?), Vous m’envoyâtes, fraîche éclose, Une chère petite rose, Frais emblème, message pur.   Elle disait en son langage Les « serments du premier amour » : Votre cœur à moi pour toujours Et toutes les choses d’usage.   Trois ans sont passés. Nous voilà ...

Read More »

NOVELS WITHOUT WORDS: Paul Verlaine, Arlette forgotten

I BELIEVE, THROUGH A WHISPERING This is languorous ecstasy, This is the love fatigue, This is all the thrills of wood Among the embrace breezes, This is, to the gray branches, The chorus of little voices. O frail and fresh murmur! This twitters and whispers, It looks like the soft cry The rough grass expires … You say under water ...

Read More »